


Touch me

by sansaswildlinglover



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, vague Ramsay references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-24 00:51:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16629743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansaswildlinglover/pseuds/sansaswildlinglover
Summary: Jon wants to touch Sansa, and she desperately needs him to.Written for Jonsa Drabbles Day 2 - Touch





	Touch me

**Author's Note:**

> We're currently 330 fics away from reaching 5000 Jonsa fics on AO3!
> 
> This afternoon I decided to challenge myself to post 33 new fics before season 8 airs, personally contributing 10% of that number!
> 
> If anyone is up for joining the challenge, let me know —don't worry if 33 sounds far too ambitious for you! If you want to do only 10 or 5, that's absolutely fine!
> 
> Happy reading and writing!
> 
> This is number 2/33!

"I want you to touch me," she told him, shedding her bedrobe to reveal her naked body.

He gulped, trying to tear his eyes away from her. "Sansa, we can't."

"I know you want to," she said, biting her lip as she glanced up at him through her eyelashes. "And I need you to. I'm so afraid I'll never be able to let a man touch me again."

His eyes softened, and he nodded. 

His gentle hands took their time, hesitant at first, but slowly turning reverent. His touch soothed her, lulling her into a state of serenity she hadn't experienced in years as he wrapped her up in a warm cocoon of safety. Yet at the same time, it excited her, revived her and aroused an unfamiliar fire inside of her, only leaving her wanting more of him.

He cupped her cheek, tracing the circle under her eye with his thumb as he leaned in for a kiss.

"No," she told him, laying two fingers on his lips. They were soft and plump and warm against her fingertips, and part of her wanted to know what they'd feel like against her own, but she couldn't. A kiss meant something else entirely than what she needed tonight. A kiss might make him hope for something she couldn't give him.

He pulled away and kissed her cheek instead. His lips traced every scar on her body, caressing it with a crease between his eyebrows that spoke of the sympathy he felt for her suffering. His mouth was a promise of a future without pain. 

By the time he knelt before her, gently spreading her thighs with his rough, warm palms, she knew she'd feared the wrong thing. Knowing what his touch felt like was what she should have been afraid of. Jon had become the reason she'd never let another man touch her again. 


End file.
